


Traversing the Milky Way

by Lazchan



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 17:19:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9668087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazchan/pseuds/Lazchan
Summary: Viktor tries to find out why the inn and the town is so busy in the middle of summer; he doesn't have a chance to ask Yuuri, but his mother tells him about the festival.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For day 6, Bonds! With a dash of Soulmates, even if it isn't an AU quite persay and another sprinkling of communication. Enjoy this massive fluff fest that I can't believe I wrote.

There were more guests in the inn than usual, and Viktor looked up curiously as Yuuri ran back and forth between the rooms, setting aside sleeping robes and towels in the various guests rooms in the inn. It wasn’t just people from the town or nearby towns, but small clumps of foreigners, their English bright and happy as they asked Yuuri questions.

 

Mari stopped in his one at one point, shaking her head. "There's no way that we can move all this to the storage room, is there?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe and looking at all the items that were accumulated there. "Gonna be a tight squeeze, having everyone down in the main room…" It was a tease, Viktor was grateful to see, but he still wasn't sure what exactly was going on to make it so busy and Yuuri fumbling explanations as to why he couldn't exactly train for the so many days.

 

He found a semi-quiet moment to talk with Hiroko, helping her in the kitchen as she washed dishes; Yuuri was in another part of the inn, scrubbing down the onsen so that it was ready for the guests. He hadn't had a real moment to talk to Yuuri the entire time and while he didn’t run from him anymore, he also didn't encourage long moments of late-night talk, either.

 

"So why is it so busy?" he asked, beaming at her as she handed him dishes to dry and stack. "Yuuri hardly has a word to say to me," he pouted, "and he is talking with many of the guests—" he was very curious. "When I went into town, there were a of people as well. I'm not used to sharing Hatestu with so many people," he teased. He had  especially liked seeing all the colorful banners, decorated in kanji that he couldn't read, the charms hung from doorsills and the small decorations that looked like trees. Wisps of paper curled around the wooden branches. They were filled with so many varieties of color, that they were like living plants themselves.

 

"Oh!" she pressed a hand to her mouth, startled, her cheeks pink.  "You fit in here so well, Vicchan, I forgot you didn't know." She patted his hand and looked dreamy. "It's almost time for the Tanabata festival." He tilted his head, waiting for an explanation as he continued to dry without thinking and she giggled.

 

"I think you and Yuuri should go," she murmured. "I know I can give him the night off so that he could go with you. You can even write a wish to tie to the trees."

 

"Is that what the paper is?" he asked, delighted. Written wishes—

 

She nodded and once the last dish was washed and he helped her carry the stack out to the main area, she continued to explain. "There is a legend that the King of the Heavens had a daughter that was a beautiful weaver and she would make her clothes by the river of stars of the Milky Way. Every day and night she would weave for her father, for he loved her work more than anything." She smiled a little, her voice lifting to reach some of the other patrons.

 

"She never left her work and she despaired of finding love. Her father found a man across the river, a herdsman and they were soon married and were deeply in love. She still wove for her father, but her love for her husband was so deep that she neglected her work and her father was angry." She hummed softly, straightening a decoration here, refilling a cup of tea there. Viktor was absolutely fascinated at the story.

 

"But this seems like a happy festival?" he asked. He knew that Yuuri knew of it, of course he had to— _but was he too shy to tell me this? After all my questions?_ "What happened with them?"

 

She sighed and clasped her hands together, not aware that she had the attention of the entire room, even those that already knew the legend. "Well, he separated the two lovers, destroying the bridge over the river that they used to meet. She would still wait by the riverside every night, her heart broken at her true love separated by the vast river. Her weaving fell apart and her tears dotted the water, turning into the stars we see today…" she paused when Yuuri came into the room and brightened even more.

 

"Yuuri… come in and rest," she tugged him over to a table, pushing Viktor down with him. "I was just telling the story of Tanabata. Viktor has never heard it!" she exclaimed and Viktor was curious to see the tips of Yuuri's ears turning red. "It was Mari's favorite more than Yuuri's, but he was always making wishes, every year…." Her voice trailed off fondly, when one of the guests cleared their throat.

 

"You didn’t finish the story. Your cute boy here is going to think there isn't a happy ending." There was a general outburst of laughter and Hiroko nodded, continuing. "So the father loved his daughter so very much and while he did not want her to leave his side and stop weaving, neither could he see her heart broken. So he made a condition that if she was good and worked all year, then once a year, she could meet her husband across the vast river."

 

Viktor wrinkled his nose. "This doesn't sound very nice of him," he whispered to Yuuri. "How cruel of him to keep them apart!" He sounded wounded on behalf of long-ago legends and Yuuri hid his smile at the whispered, indignant words.

 

"Shh, there's still more," he laughed softly. "Mom is getting to the main part of why we celebrate the festival when we do."

 

Hiroko was undeterred by Viktor's pout and instead patted his head with a fond smile. "So her father promised, but the first year they were too meet, they discovered no bridge had replaced the one that had been destroyed and no craft could cross the perilous waters, now filled with the remains of stars and moving swiftly through the galaxy. Her heart broken once again, the princess wept at the side of the river. "

 

The next part had to be well known, for there were shuffles and sighs, the girls clasping their hands and those that were coupled up, pulled their loved ones closer. Viktor looked down and Yuuri and decided not to go so far; Yuuri trusted him now as a coach and a friend, but there was a tenuous spot that felt almost as wide as the river in the legend.

 

"The magpies that flew among the stars saw her tears and they formed a bridge for her to walk on, meeting her husband once more. Only for the night; once the day started to break again, the magpies returned back into the universe and the lovers were separated once more. Every year, though, the magpies return to reunite them, as long as the skies are clear. We pray for no rain on the day they're to meet—and our wishes are theirs to grant as we pray for them to clasp hands once again."

 

There were a few sniffles and Viktor beamed down at Yuuri. "Is that why there are wishes?" He asked. "What do people usually wish for?"

 

"… a lot of things," Yuuri rubbed the back of his head. "Luck … love—health and making sure people are taken care of." He stared down at the table, tracing a grain of wood with his finger. "Wishes are private, though—you don't tell anyone your wish and as the festival comes to an end, the trees and wishes are burned to release them to the sky."  

 

Viktor smiled and hesitantly squeezed Yuuri's hand, pulling him to his feet. "Will you help me make a wish?" he asked.

 

Yuuri blinked and the nodded. When he got up, the spell that the story had painted was broken and there was loud chatter among the guests and Mari hurried in, along with Toshiya. Yuuri hesitated, torn between helping his family and Viktor, but his mother waved him off.

 

"Go on and help him," she laughed. "I'm sure heaven will understand if he needs a little guidance with a wish." Her eyes were warm and Viktor gave her a silent word of thanks when Yuuri's back was turned. He didn't hesitate taking Yuuri's hand this time, both of them walking out of the inn towards the town and the temple.

 

~

 

Viktor watched Yuuri intently as he carefully writes down a kanji, each move precise and the lines of his body tense. It evolves like music, like art and Viktor is struck by how lovely Yuuri made the words look on the paper. He didn’t know what they said and mindful of what Yuuri had said, he didn't ask. He did enjoy the pink flush on Yuuri's cheeks when the other tied up the wish in the rapidly filling tree. His fingertips hesitated on the bright blue paper before releasing it to curl in the faint wind that picked up.

 

"Does it have to be in Japanese?" Viktor leaned against him. "My wish can't be private if you can read it, Yuuri."

 

Yuuri gave a breathless laugh. "No, it doesn't have to be. Even though we're a small town, we still get visitors from all over and there are a lot of different languages for the wishes." He looked down. "You can write as long of one or as short of one—but most people write only a few words so that the gods don't get overwhelmed."

 

Viktor thought he looked adorable, looking so shy and embarrassed over explaining such a tradition. He picked out a scrap of paper that he deemed long enough for this wish and he understood why Yuuri said people usually had simple wishes; there was only so much you could fit on the paper. He smoothed it out and thought over the phrases in his mind, of what he wanted most.

 

крылья Юри будет расти. He wrote as small and neatly as possible, smiling a little to himself as Yuuri glanced down at the letters and then shrugged a little. "I can't read it," he assured Viktor, threading the string through the paper and guiding Viktor's hands. "You make your wish as you hang it up," he instructed.

 

Viktor nodded, entranced by the glow of the light from the temple, the setting sun—of the warmth of Yuuri's hands and the quiet murmur of voices as the people around them hung up their own wishes. He wanted to keep this moment; wanted to find a way to capture it.

 

All too soon, Yuuri pulled away. "I have to get back to the inn," he said quickly. "I know it's bad that we can't practice this week and all—but—this is important, too. I can't just have my family do all the work on their own."

 

"I understand," Viktor laughed and ruffled his hair. "It just means that we're going to work extra hard when I get you back onto the ice," he teased.

 

Yuuri made a sound of protest, but didn't look annoyed, but instead as if he was looking forward to it. Viktor remembered the sight of Yuuri skating alone on the ice, with only his thoughts to keep him company and wondered if he could ask Hiroko to let Yuuri go earlier, so that he could go back to the space he loved.

 

"Yuuri…" Viktor hummed under his breath as they made the walk back home. "What was your favorite story?" he asked. "Your mother said this one wasn't..."

 

Yuuri's ears turned red and he immediately clasped his hands together. "It's not as special as Tanabata," he whispered. "And I can't tell stories like my mom. It's probably going to sound boring…"

 

"I'll be the judge of that," Viktor said firmly. "And later, I will tell you my favorite stories, but first, tell me yours."

 

Yuuri nodded and wound his fingers around each other. "There's a story that some people are always meant to find each other," his voice was very quiet and the sound of the waves from the nearby ocean almost drowned him out. Viktor pressed closer to hear the words. "On our pinky finger, there is a red string that ties us those people.  They'll make history together… they can do anything when they meet."

 

"Ah, that is much more romantic than star-crossed lovers," Viktor said, beaming. "I didn't know you were such a romantic, Yuuri!"

 

"Ahh!! No, no!" Yuuri waved his hands frantically. "I always liked it because it wasn't … it wasn't always romance," he said. "Mom used to say that we created a tangle of thread, because there were people in our lives that made a difference to us and us to them. It could even be friends," he said shyly, "or someone you love, but your paths were meant to cross again and again. No matter what, the string would never break."

 

Viktor's eyes brightened. "Like us?" he asked, eyes focusing on the blush that reddened the tips of Yuuri's ears. "Do you see our strings, Yuuri?" he asked quietly. He figured it was safe to do so, since Yuuri mentioned friends as well—and Viktor hoped he didn’t misread the look that Yuuri had bestowed upon him as he said it.

 

Yuuri gave him a hesitant smile and linked their pinkies together. That was enough of an answer for Viktor for now.


End file.
